The sweet nothings whispered to my husband, Howard Ford, had unwittingly cast me as the other woman in his life. His so-called "girlfriend" saw me as a rival, a mistress in the shadows.
With the ferocity of a scorned lover, she stormed into my home, flanked by a mob of self-appointed moral vigilantes known as the "Alliance for Punishing Mistresses."
"How dare you play the part of a mistress without the courage to own up to it?"
"From the moment you chose this path, you should have known the reckoning would come!"
"We, the Internet Judges, are the avengers of moral decay!"
The room erupted in a cacophony of curses and the shattering of precious objects.
Amidst the chaos, I remained composed. My fingers were dancing over the screen of my phone as I drafted a message to the company's legal department.
"According to the prenuptial agreement in hand, you prepare the divorce papers at once. Howard Ford should leave with nothing. And make them pay for every last luxury and priceless antique that's been destroyed here today."
"How dare Howard have a mistress? He even depends on me to advance his course." I mused aloud.
——
Earlier, I had concluded a video conference with several key shareholders from the comfort of my own home. Now, I found myself drawn to an outdoor live broadcast, where a group of impassioned individuals marched through the streets, banners aloft.
"Punishing mistresses is everyone's duty," the banner proclaimed.
They were a rallying cry for the mob. Their energy was infectious, engaging with the audience in the live chat with fervor.
"Guys, subscribe and like this post. We will soon show you the live punishment of the mistress!"
As they spoke, they arrived at the gates of a residential area.
Recognition dawned on me. It was my own neighborhood.
Meanwhile, the comments section exploded with reactions.
[Shit! The mistress lives in my community! What a disgrace!]
[The higher the property value, the more mistresses, it seems.]
[That's right. Both keeping and being a mistress requires money, after all.]
[I detest mistresses. Hurry up! I can't wait to see her caught!]
The live broadcast room swelled with viewers, the host's excitement reaching fever pitch as he implored everyone to follow and show their support.
He promised to hasten their pursuit of the mistress once the follower count hit 100,000.
In this age of streaming sensationalism, I had never been one to indulge. Yet, as I was about to swipe away, a familiar face appeared on the screen.
I saw Howard's assistant, Stella Carter.
Over the years, as Howard navigated life under my family's roof, I had granted him a subsidiary to manage.
To demonstrate his loyalty, he had always insisted I review the resumes of any female recruits.
Thus, Stella was a face I knew well.
Now, she stood before the camera, and her voice was choked with tears as she addressed the live audience.
"My relationship with my boyfriend has always been solid, but this woman relentlessly sends me provocative messages, trying to seduce him away. She threatens me that as long as I don't break up with my boyfriend, she'll make my life a misery. Can a mistress really drive someone to despair?"
Stella sobbed, and her words were eliciting a wave of sympathy from the viewers.
The audience rallied, vowing to stand by her and defeat the "vicious mistress."
I never imagined the world could be so small that I'd find myself embroiled in the drama of my own employees through a live broadcast.
After ending the stream, I called Howard.
"Darling, is Stella not at work today?"
"She's taken the day off. Why do you ask?"
"It seems she's in some trouble. Check in with her to see if there's anything we can do to help. She's our employee, after all, and shouldn't be subjected to bullying."
As I hung up, the doorbell rang.
The door burst open under a forceful push.
A throng of people flooded in.
"Look! This is the mistress we've come to punish!"
"A mistress' life is indeed lavish. To live alone in such opulence, no wonder she clings to another's man!"
As I steadied myself, a barrage of phones was thrust into my face.
The air was thick with the stench of righteous indignation as the mob advanced.
I stood my ground, recognizing the very same faces from the live broadcast.
"How did they mistake me for the mistress?" I mused.
I was speechless and said, "Did you make a mistake? I..."
Before I could finish, a sharp slap cut through the air, landing on my cheek with a stinging force. It was Stella.
"You bitch! How dare you live so well off my man's money?"
Chapter 2The resounding slap left me reeling.
The mob that had surged into my home now jeered.
"You may appear respectable, but why do you choose the path of a mistress when so many avenues are open to you? You deserve every blow!"
"Exactly. No wonder she dwells in a mansion worth millions at such a tender age. It's clear she's slept her way to this opulence. How utterly shameful for a woman!"
The commotion had drawn the attention of the neighbors, who now gathered at the threshold. Their whispers and snide remarks sliced through the air.
Unable to contain their disdain, someone even spat in my direction.
I removed my coat, a symbol of my wealth, and cast it into the trash. Fixing my gaze on Stella, I spoke with a firm resolve.
"Your name is Stella Carter, correct? You've mistaken me for someone else. I am a married woman, and I am not acquainted with your boyfriend. I suggest you gather your people and vacate my home immediately."
Considering Stella an employee of my subsidiary and a victim of mistreatment by a mistress, I chose not to engage in a dispute over a simple misunderstanding.
I expected her to storm off in a huff upon hearing my words.
Instead, her face contorted with a newfound rage.
She shouted, "What? You dare to play the part of a mistress yet lack the courage to admit it?"
She then produced her phone, flipping through her photo album to display what she claimed were incriminating messages. "Here are the chat records between you and my boyfriend. These are the indisputable proofs of your infidelity!"
I scrutinized the screen, only to find exchanges between Howard and myself.
In the chat, Howard had labeled me a "vixen."
Our conversations were filled with the flirting nothings of a devoted couple.
Some were indeed quite dirty talks.
It was then that the truth dawned on me.
The man Stella spoke of was none other than my own husband, Howard, and the mistress she referred to was, in fact, me, Howard's lawful wife.
Since Howard married into my family, he had always been the model of propriety, attentive and obedient.
I had always believed his love for me to be genuine and his loyalty unwavering.
Yet, here I stood, confronted with the bitter reality of his betrayal.
Fury ignited within me, a conflagration fueled by Howard's betrayal and the mistress' audacity to accuse me in my own home.
I glared at Stella and coldly said, "Stella, I advise you to seek out Howard and clarify the nature of his relationship with me."
"What is there to ask? My boyfriend is honest. He cannot be mistaken, but you look the part of a shameless seductress!"
Stella put down her phone and bellowed furiously, "Look at yourself! You bitch. If you hadn't seduced Howard, he wouldn't even notice you."
The hosts seized upon the drama and added some incendiary comments. "Indeed, she may appear delicate and tender, but she exudes the aura of a practiced mistress. One wonders how many men she has ensnared."
"Why do you to feign nobility and innocence? We are not those easily swayed by your charms."
"That's it. You're addicted to being a mistress, right?"
In the live broadcast room, the comments section flooded with personal attacks, each more vitriolic than the last.
Stella found the overwhelming support for her cause, so her anger only intensified. She continued her tirade, "I detest mistresses above all else. Every last one of them deserves to meet their end!"
With that, she produced a can of graffiti spray paint and daubed three stark words across the wall of my living room.
[Mistresses deserve death!]
I regarded the words with a sardonic smirk. "Stella, you will soon see the irony in those words."
"You bitch. You've stolen my man, and now you dare to mock me?"
Stella raged, advancing toward me with a raised hand.
I caught her wrist with a firm grip and pushed her back. "I will offer you one final warning. Leave now with your followers, or I shall call the police."
Stella's expression twisted with disdain. "How dare you? A mistress who hides in the shadows dares to menace me, the rightful paramour? You subsist on my boyfriend's wealth, yet you posture as if you possess value. Today, I shall ensure you disgorge every morsel you've consumed!"
With that, Stella erupted into a frenzy, hurling objects about my home with reckless abandon.
The hosts witnessed this spectacle and grew animated.
"For years, we have upheld justice, meting out punishment to the likes of mistresses, yet never have we encountered one so brazen."
"It appears we have a seasoned offender on our hands."
"Fellow viewers, today we must impart a lesson. Please, show your support with a like, and I shall provide a firsthand account of the dismantling of this abode!"
The live broadcast room erupted in a flurry of likes, comments, and gifts.
The online viewers flooded in the live broadcast room.
The audience, it seemed, had reached their limit and clamored for swift action.
The hosts surged forth and commenced their assault on my home.
I surveyed this pack of frenzied souls and issued my final caution, "Each item here is of considerable value. Proceed with care, or you may find yourselves unable to bear the cost of your actions."
Stella seized a cherished piece of painting that I had treasured for years. With a contemptuous flourish, she tore it asunder before my eyes.
"I shall raze them all to the ground! What recourse have you against me?"
Chapter 3In a tempest of fury, Stella ravaged the painting, shredding them into oblivion. With a defiant flourish, she doused the remnants in graffiti spray paint, defacing what was once a masterpiece.
Amidst the chaos, a keen-eyed connoisseur stooped to gather the tattered fragments. His voice trembled with reverence as he whispered, "This, I believe, is the work of Van Gogh. Were it to grace the auction block, it would command a starting bid of a staggering 100 million dollars."
The revelation struck Stella like a thunderbolt, freezing her in her tracks. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as she grappled with the enormity of her actions. The realization that a mere stroke of her hand could have obliterated over 100 million dollars left her reeling.
"Ms. Carter, don't be afraid. These treasures were acquired with the funds of your boyfriend. Is not his wealth yours? Why should you be worried about damaging your things?"
This exchange elicited a sardonic chuckle from me.
After all, Howard was hardly a paragon of wealth. Even if he were entrusted with a subsidiary company, his incompetence would render it worthless, its market value a mere fraction of the artwork's worth.
Were it not for our marital bond, I would have long since fired him.
Stella, however, remained moved.
"My boyfriend's wealth is mine, and thus, his acquisitions are my domain. If I choose to destroy what is mine, what business is it of yours? Destroy it all!" Stella commanded.
At her bidding, the mob surged forward. Their frenzy intensified as if fueled by a potent elixir.
Not a single vase, antique, or piece of jewelry was spared.
They lifted them and hurled them to the ground, where they shattered into countless fragments.
One by one, they slashed at the Chanel dresses and Hermès bags with scissors.
They were like robbers entering my villa.
The once-pristine villa was transformed into a battlefield of shattered dreams and broken treasures.
It was futile to appeal to reason with these vengeful souls. As their ire reached a crescendo, I resigned myself to the inevitable and dialed the police.
Yet, before the call could connect, a vigilant spectator lunged forward, wresting my phone from my grasp and shattering it on the ground.
"You dare to call the police? How audacious of you, a mistress who hides in the shadows!"
"From the moment you embraced this role, you should have foreseen the retribution that would follow."
"That's right! Don't delude yourself into thinking that being a mistress is beyond reproach. We, the arbiters of the digital realm, are the executioners of justice to punish you!"
The audience erupted in a frenzy of approval. The comments section was awash with exclamations of "Thrilling!" and "Bravo!"
[This is how you punish a mistress. It's really cool!]
I settled my gaze on the broken phone and the frenzied mob. I spoke with a calm that belied the turmoil within, "Enjoy your destruction. I only hope you'll be as pleased when the time comes to compensate for it, and let's see if you'll still be standing or if you'll be begging me for mercy."
Undeterred by my warnings, they redoubled their efforts, and their excitement fueled the destruction.
Someone took it upon themselves to destroy the antiques I had cherished for years and kept safe in my locker, reducing both the treasures and the locker to unrecognizable states.
Their fervor only grew as they continued their rampage, pausing only to engage with the audience watching the live broadcast.
"Guys, does this not bring you solace? Does it bring you joy?"
"A woman who barters her dignity for wealth dares to hoard such treasures."
"She doesn't deserve these treasures!"
"Keep watching, everyone. Your attention fuels our quest for justice, turning this bitch's home into the garbage dump she deserves."
I watched as this pack of rabid wolves destroyed everything in their path, making no move to stop them.
Instead, I cast a glance at the security cameras scattered throughout the house, knowing that their every act of vandalism was being recorded.
The time would come for them to pay the price for their madness.
"Let's make sure we haven't missed anything. This mistress shouldn't be left with anything of value."
They marched into my bedroom to ransack the bedside table.
"Look what we've found!"
Someone emerged from the bedroom with a sandalwood box in hand.
At the sight of it, my expression shifted. "Don't you dare touch that."
Chapter 4As my sudden tension became apparent, Stella sneered, "Changed your tune, have you? Just moments ago, you were so brazen. Are you trembling now?"
The hosts were emboldened by her confidence. "Guys, this mistress has finally shown her fear. It seems the contents of this box are of great value!"
"What could be hidden within?"
They speculated, and their excitement mounted as if they had unearthed a treasure trove.
The audience in the live broadcast room buzzed with fervor. Their curiosity was piqued to its zenith.
I spoke with caution, "There is nothing of value within, but it holds great significance to me. You must not touch it."
As I uttered these words, I stepped forward, intent on seizing the sandalwood box.
Yet, Stella was swift; she snatched the box and flung it open, revealing a pearl necklace nestled quietly inside.
"I thought it might be something grand. Just a pearl necklace!"
Stella scoffed, dangling the necklace with disdain.
"Give it back to me!"
I rushed over nervously.
That necklace was a labor of love crafted by my mother and me. We painstakingly gathered each pearl and meticulously strung them together.
My mother wore it until her final breath, so it was the last tangible piece of her I had left.
It was invaluable not for its material worth but for the immeasurable sentiments and memories it encapsulated.
I could endure the loss of all else, but not this necklace.
I would never allow anyone to break it.
Before I could close the gap, Stella yanked the necklace with force.
A sharp snap echoed as the strand broke.
Pearls were scattered across the floor.
The mob stomped over the scattered pearls, crushing them beneath their feet.
"No!"
I witnessed the obliteration of my mother's final legacy.
My heart shattered, and tears streamed uncontrollably.
It was the second time I had wept; the first was at my mother's funeral.
"Look! The bitch is crying!"
"Did you not foresee this fate when you shamelessly embraced your role as a mistress?"
"Do not presume that your actions go unpunished merely because the law does not address your kind. Remember, we, the righteous online judges, are here!"
With reddened eyes, I fixed my gaze upon these frenzied souls and spoke with icy resolve, "You will rue this day."
Faced with my threats, they erupted in laughter.
A host even thrust the camera close to my face.
"Guys, this is the consequence of becoming a mistress!"
"With our intervention, no mistress can escape the lesson we impart. That's why we, Alliance for Punishing Mistresses, exist!"
"Observe her now. She was unable to retaliate against us. All she can muster is a futile rage."
The live chat exploded with a flurry of comments and gifts, the screen awash with virtual celebrations.
The hosts were basking in their triumph and prepared to depart with Stella. Their smiles were so broad that they threatened to distort their features.
At that moment, several police officers suddenly entered through the gate.
"The property manager reported that the red alert system was activated here. What happened here?"
I stepped forward with a steady and deliberate voice, "Sir, these individuals unlawfully entered my home, spread malicious rumors, defamed my character, and physically assaulted me. Furthermore, they have wantonly destroyed luxury items worth millions of dollars, along with priceless antique paintings valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars. I will not entertain any form of mediation in this matter. I demand that justice be served impartially."